Ribbons for Rosie

Sergeant Cole Harding first spotted her sitting in a straight-backed chair in the corner of the police station. He couldn't see her face. She stared down towards the delicate hands clenched in her lap and long, thick caramel strands of hair concealed her features. It was the way she swung her plimsoled feet backwards and forwards in clear agitation that made him want to smile. Despite her subdued posture, there was attitude in her demeanour. He would lay money on there being a pout upon her lips too.

"Hey Mike," he called to the front desk officer. "Who's the kid in the corner?"

Mike shook his head wearily. "Shoplifter," he sighed. "Brought in a couple of hours ago by the store owner. No charges being pressed but we can't release her until she tells us who she is, so we can track down the parents."

"She's not talking?"

"Hasn't said a word since she got here."

Cole watched as her little jean-clad legs kept swinging. Had she been taller, her feet would have scuffed the ground with each swing but she was so tiny they cleared the floor by a good couple of inches.

Mike nodded. "As un-PC as it is, I agree with you - which is probably why the little madam won't give us her name. I dare say her parents might think a smacked bottom is in order."

"I'll have a word with her," Cole decided.

"Aren't you finished for the day?"

Cole shrugged. "Yup but I've got nothing to rush home for."

Mike frowned. "You've been divorced over a year now, mate. It's time you started dating again."

"I'm enjoying my freedom," Cole announced, but in truth he had yet to meet a woman who interested him enough to want to get back in the dating game. He had very specific kinks and desires. His brief marriage had been an attempt to conform to the norm of society but it had proved a disaster. Krista had been as beautiful and vivacious as she was independent. She had rapidly grown to resent his attempts to nurture and protect her, whilst Cole had been left feeling frustrated and surplus to requirements. Within a year of taking their vows they had parted ways amicably but with a shared sense of relief that it was over.

He walked across the small station house, stopping in front of the little girl, far enough away so that she didn't kick him as she swung her feet, but close enough for his large black shoes to intrude upon her downcast vision. For endless seconds her head remained stubbornly bent as she attempted to ignore his presence. Cole folded his arms and waited.